


resisting a rest

by Tarnt



Category: One Piece
Genre: (nsfw chapters labeled in chapter one notes), Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Ace, Bottoming from the Top, Crying, Eventual Smut, I should prob add, M/M, Sex Toys, Thatch is in there too but as part of a conversation, Under-negotiated Kink, like its nothing too bad but I think that still deserves a tag, that's the right tag?, they fuck w/sex toys how many tags are needed, top Marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarnt/pseuds/Tarnt
Summary: Ace is having some personal trouble as of late. He goes to Marco for assistance.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Comments: 9
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey starting to run into ‘I will die if I publish this’ level of embarrassment when looking at my writing, so here it is. Chapter 1&2 have discussions of sex, 3 semi-smut, and dicks out for chapter 4.

Coming out to breakfast, Marco found Ace face first in a pile of food like usual. Unlike usual, Ace was awake. Nothing too strange, he thought, settling into the chair across from him. Ace didn't seem to have the same sense of propriety the rest of them did. If he wanted to lay in his food, he would.

Marco waited and waited while Ace continued to be silent. It would of been almost relaxing if he knew why Ace was quiet. He ate most of his meal that way, entertaining himself by scrapping little scraps of muscle from clam shells. How the cooks succeeded in getting any days away from the coast was beyond him. He placed a few liberated portions on Ace's plate right in front of his face.

As he did, Ace groaned so loud a few pieces of rice fell from his plate. Definitely awake then. After a moment, Ace made some chewing motions, not lifting his head up. He hadn't even moved food into his mouth. It was normal for Marco to give Ace pieces of his food. A particular mushroom he liked, a chunk of buttered bread, Ace lit up receiving anything. Alas, it didn't look like Ace could eat another bite. Rather unfortunate really, when Marco was loosing his appetite watching him languish in his food.

“Have you finally found your limit, yoi?” Marco pushed his food around a bit, some rice dish from the South Blue. There was a dusting of it in Ace's hair. Compared to the max-speed max-capacity precision Ace ate at every other meal, this was even more off putting. At least then the mess only came once he fell asleep.

Ace groaned again, this time lifting his head up. A piece of rice fell from his cheek. He made eye contact with Marco, blinking slow.

“No,” Ace said. He sighed, deep and despairing. "Never."

Ace lugged himself up, wiping the rice off of his face and shaking the rest from his hair. A piece fell into to Marco's food. He scooped it onto Ace's plate.

“Thank you,” said Ace, oblivious about as to why Marco gifted it. He went back to eating, slower than his normal pace.

“You're welcome.” Ace grunted in acknowledgement.

“What's wrong, yoi,” asked Marco, genuinely concerned. Something had to be. Ace was several shades more glower than normal. Instead of probably avoiding Marco’s question in full, Ace choked on his food. That could be a form of avoidance too Marco supposed, patting his back as Ace chugged down some water.

"Oh nothing," Ace said, pitch higher than normal. Oh what did he do this time? If there was any paper work involved, Ace was completing it. He still hadn't made up all the repair forms he caused during his assassination days.

“I'm sure whatever you did, we can fix it, yoi. Who's hair did you dye? Or did you trip over one of Pops IV lines again?” Ace came to life at that, swelling up to his full height.

“No! It's that-,” Ace shook his head, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “It's nothing. I didn't pissed off anyone,” he finished. Marco held back a snarky ‘yet’. There was no reason to agitate him even further. Whatever had gotten into him had Ace blushing. It would be inexcusable to not find out why.

“It can't be nothing if it delayed you eating. No ones going to judge. We're all family here,” he said leaning closer to him. The hint of a blush from earlier came back with vigor. He glared at Marco, looked away, looked back and didn't speak for a long moment.

“I'm having trouble,” Ace started. Furtively, he glanced around and made a brief pumping motion in the air.

“Is it a privacy issue?” Marco asked a bit too sternly. Ace could talk to any doctor or nurse if it was medical. Asking him personally had the implication it was something he needed a the captain's right hand man, not a doctor.

Further, due to the arrangements of the rooms, odd on one end, even on the other, Ace shared a wall with Thatch. It wasn't hard to imagine that being difficult. If he was causing enough of a ruckus so Ace couldn't even rub one out in private, Marco should at least scold him. Even less hard to imagine was that someone could take their admiration for Ace a little too far.

Ace made a sharp noise, appearing distressed Marcos question. Marco could understand not wanting to confess. Naming someone could make things strained or awkward. Wanting things to absolve on their own wasn't abnormal.

“You could try a fuck-room,” Marco offered up. People didn't bother people in those, well unless they put up a sign for it.

“A what?” Ace looked stricken. “What's a fuck room. I don't need to fuck." Marco barely held back a quip. This entire conversation proved Aces claim otherwise. "Who would I fuck."Anyone, thought Marco. "I just need to–” He resumed making a pumping motion.

Marco watched as Thatch swooped in from behind Ace and grabbed his hand from midair. Any pallor Ace had from his embarrassment drained in an instant.

“We're talking about the fuck-rooms? What does our littlest commander need one of those for?” Thatch's grin was absolutely shit eating. “You’ve yet to break your new room in?” he asked, placing his tray by Ace and sitting.

“Shut up!” Ace was cherry red and trying, quite desperately, to shove Thatch away. “What's a fuck-room?” Ace asked again. His scrambling and Thatch's raucous laughter against the table rattled the dishes. “You guys made that up didn't you?” He accused.

“No the fuck rooms are real,” Marco said, like the idea of _Ace_ and _fucking_ didn't rouse something in him. “They're well labeled in fact.”

“You're lying," growled out Ace. He looked up at Marco from where he was trying to shove Thatch off the bench. Breaking the bench or tossing the other through the wall would be easy for Ace. He didn't. He didn't and Marco felt stupid and smitten for how happy that made him.

“They’re the ones with the massive red doors with the lil signs hooked on ‘em,” said Thatch. Recognition flitted through Ace's eyes. “I'm pretty sure they're the only room you didn't go flying through.” Ace slid off of Thatch, snatching a piece of fruit off of his plate as he did.

“Does," Ace started carefully, stopping to eat his piece of fruit. “Did Pops not want to interrupt someone?” he finished asking. His face was stiff, blank and a little wide eyed. He doubted Ace had much of a sex-education, let alone endorsed fucking rooms.

“Less than that, but more than that he’d break you before you broke the walls,” clarified Marco. On the other hand… “Thick walls, thin doors. Pops could throw you into one, but making it out is another story.” What would no doubt be Ace’s absolute embarrassment at being chucked into an orgy had him almost disappointed it never happened.

Thatch laughed and added his own addition. “You can't hear it through the walls, but as soon as you get in front of the door it's obvious. I don't know why we bother with any sign but open admission.” Ace leaned forward, flicking his eyes between Thatch and Marco. It seemed to be finally comprehending that, yes, the fuck-rooms existed.

“Wouldn't you only need an occupied sign.” Ace's eyebrows furrowed down. Marco almost felt bad for the inevitable loss of Ace's innocence.

“You don't know?” Thatch glanced over at Marco, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “The ship calendar has ‘free for all’ on it still, right?” Thatch asked.

“You'd know better than I.” Marco shrugged. Maybe he should check. He was getting awfully tense. At that thought he twisted his neck. It gave out a loud crack.

“It did last month,” Thatch confirmed. Why did he even bother to ask if he already knew? Ace mouthed ‘free for all?’ to himself. It didn't escape Thatched attention.

“Orgys Ace. That's what open admission is.” He jabbed his spoon in his direction. “Someone or a bunch o’ someone puts it on the calendar as ‘free for all' with their name, and you find one you wanna go to.”

“Anyone?” Ace asked. Images flickered through Marco's head at that, none of them appropriate for the dinner table. Ace wouldn't kill him if he knew, but Marco would certainly wish he did.

“Oh? Do you wanna join,” Thatch nudged Ace with his elbow conspiringly, “or be the star of a show hmm?” He looked over briefly at Marco at the end of that. He was really trying to kill him wasn't he?

Ace blushed terribly deeply. Would that carry over? How far down did it go? Ace's mind seems as in the gutters as Marco's. He didn't respond for a few good moments, simply staring at Thatch agape. Whatever Ace was thinking about passed, and he reared back up.

“No!” He took up his previous hobby of trying to shove Thatch off the bench.

“If that's not up your ally, I have some magazines,” Thatch offered. "I can't leave a friend bereft." He was teasing, but it was obvious to Marco at least he was sincere. However, Ace hadn't known the man as long as Marco. He only shoved him harder, actually succeeding in toppling him a few inches.

“Like I could use anything your- your, ugh!” He stopped trying to launch Thatch off the bench to making a sweeping motion at his dick, only to look disgusted with himself. “Might of gotten on!” He shoved his foot against Thatch's side. They both nearly teetered off the bench with the force of it.

Ace growled, embarrassed, and swiped the last bit of his food and Thatch's bread roll before scampering away from the dining hall. He turned so fast into the door that he feet slid for a step. What Ace thought was appropriate was always entertaining. Today, he could lay in his food, but couldn't share porn.

“Be a bit easier on the kid,” said Marco. Thatch laughed at that. Well, no once couldn't say he didn't try. Ace would have to get used to sharing porn, or not use any.

“I was.” Thatch grinned a bit wider. “Mm he doesn't look like much of kid does he now.” He leaned over and wiggled his eyebrows. “Especially bringing up topics like that.”

“I suppose he doesn't,” Marco admitted. Thatch would know if he lied.

“Aw don't look so down. I'm sure an old man like yourself still has a chance.” Thatch made a jabbing motion at Marco with his spoon.

“I'm five months older than you,” said Marco for the third time this month. He wasn't old. Thatch had more wrinkles.

“And who has the doctorates here? That's an old man thing.” Before Marco could start arguing against that, Thatch continued. “Anyways, it sounded like he might of wanted a little Marco-assistance.” He got a flat look in reply. Marco was a division commander and a doctor. There was very little stopping him, be it medical or due to crew members, from fixing Ace's woes. It only made sense he came to him.

“We’ve both seen the way he looks at you,” Thatch countered. Marco has no clue what he was talking about. Ace looked at Marco like Marco looked at Ace. Oh wait-

“He could of been confiding or asking a medical question, yoi.” Ace propositioning him over dinner didn't seem like something he would do. Then again, he didn't expect him to talk about his sex life over dinner either.

“And he could of talked to his former first mate just as easy.” Thatch tore a piece of bread off to clean the inside of his soup bowl. “Trust me, okay?” he asked. How couldn't he? Thatch was his best friend. He desperately wanted what he said to be true, even though he'd never admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Thank u for reading my dudes. If there's a mistake please tell me. I haven't written/published fanfiction in like six or seven years and never on ao3. I also have the emotional vigor of badly set jello, so if it is crap, pls be gentle in informing me
> 
> (-Affection is placing choice food bits on another persons plate. I starting giving a friend my favorite pieces as we were eating the other day and she was like "oh you don't like these??" and we had the most awkward fucking pause after I explained that no. That's my favorite. Being an adult around other people's family culture is the worst.)


	2. Chapter 2

Both Marco and Ace had been on night shifts for the last week. An illness went around segments of the normal night-crew and left gaps in the shifts. Being commanders didn't get either of them out of pulling some extra weight.

Coming off of night-shift with the first specs of dawn on the horizon, Marco spotted Ace for the first time in days. It wasn't surprising how good Ace was at hiding due to his first few months aboard, but it was disappointing.

Ace made a charming figure leaning against the edge of the port beam. Drawing up behind him, Marco couldn't resist placing his hand against Pops mark, stark even in the poor lighting. The muscles under his hand stiffened into an almost-flinch, even though he must have noticed him walking towards him, even though he finally let Marco be in the same room as him.

Ace turned his head from the side Marco settled on, but didn't move away. He remained ever so tense under his hand. With great reluctance, Marco separated himself. There was no need to make Ace uncomfortable. He leaned against the rail, looking out to watch the sea. Neither of them made a move to talk.

Ace wasn't candid from his past, though Marco thought he knew more than most. He read his medical reports from the Spadille, filled with records of old poorly healed injuries and a terrifying lack of vaccine records. That combined with the stories Ace gave either reluctant or drunk painted a worrisome picture. He was briefly raised by bandits but largely grew up feral in a forest with a few other kids.

Did he ever get to see a sunrise like this as a child? Where the first drops of sunlight glistened on the waves and lit up the sparse clouds gold. Where there wasn't a tree in sight to block the view? Where the breeze fluttered his hair, glinting in the sunlight as he faced the watch it? It was selfish, but he hoped that he hadn't. That every sunrise on the Moby Dick, especially this one, was special. That he knew with every sunrise that he'd be loved and fed.

Ace had relaxed beautifully. Marco hated to be the one to ruin it.

“I know you might not want to talk about it, yoi,” Marco said carefully. Ace's whole body shuddered to awareness at that. Maybe he was hoping that Marco would forget after a week? He watched Ace carefully. If he decided to run, Marco wouldn't chase after him. It would piss him off and accomplish nothing. He would tell Pops though, even if it damaged Ace's trust in him.

“But Ace, if you're having a medical issue, there's no shame in talking to a nurse or doctor about it. Deuce was on the Spadille if you want someone more familiar, yoi," Marco said more desperate than he wanted to admit. Ace let out a deep breath and hunched over into himself.

“It's not medical.” Ace's voice was morning-rough, even though he'd been working all night. How long had he stood here? “Well, mostly.”

“If it's not medical, have you considered you're asexual?” Marco could be happy with that. He trusted Thatch's advice, but he still doubted Ace would ever be interested in him, and if he was, sex would never be a requirement. “Even if you have your own room, you don't need to use it for sex. Haruta keeps at least twenty whetstones in his and regularly throws sword sharpening parties with a few of the other commanders instead, yoi,” he suggested.

He does?” Ace turned to face Marco for the first time in a week, running a finger down the sheath of his dagger. There was a glimmer in his eyes that betrayed any excitement he was attempting to hide.

“That's not exactly a sword, but I'm sure no one would mind if you wanted to join in.” They’d love it, no doubt. Fossa, among others, was somewhat disappointed that the newest commander wasn't apart of the sword club.

“I do.” The breeze picked up and pushed backed Ace's hair. He was blushing to his ears as he made eye contact with Marco, and said sternly, “I'm not asexual.” Marco shrugged. He didn't see why Ace was so defensive over that.

“Neither is Thatch, and I've had to reattach one of his toes because he got too drunk while sharpening his blades.” That was such a mess. Why did he tell Ace about it?

“Thatch lost a toe?” asked Ace, his tone betraying his fascination for a party that wild. Marco huffed under his breath in amusement.

“No, I reattached it, yoi.” He grinned and wiggled his right pinky finger a bit to show which toe. “Not to say one isn't a little shorter now.” Marco crossed his arms and blinked tiredly at the ever-rising sun. “He still goes, albeit with shoes now, yoi, if you want to ask him.”

“I'll remember to bring my own pair.” Ace wasn't exactly distant with the crew, especially his division, but any motion of him becoming more integrated thrilled Marco.

He watched as Ace straightened his back, glanced around, and scooted closer to Marco until their shoulders were touching. With only Marco's shirt separating them, he was nearly unbearably warm. Marco wanted nothing more than to lean into the crook of Ace's neck and rest, or pull him closer to rest his hand at his waist.

Ace rocked on the balls of his feet before leaning in a smidgen closer and spoke softly to Marco, “I mean sex is great. I'm having issues because I can't.” He sighed deeply and pushed his hair back nervously. “You know.”

Marco leaned until Ace's hair brushed his ear, and replied back just as quiet, “What's wrong, yoi? Is someone bothering you?” Ace never said so the other day.

“I fall asleep,” Ace choked out. With an answer like that Marco wasn't surprised over his reluctance. The crew was sympathetic enough to his narcolepsy, but it was still often trivialized and joked about.

Ace looked down at his hands, brows drawn down. “It's repetitive. Staying up during patrols or drawing maps is easy. It's never the same or I'm moving," clarified Ace. Marco could admit masturbating could get repetitive, but his ideas on making it less so fell through without the help of either toys or a partner.

“We should hit port in days if the weather stays. You can visit a brothel there, yoi.” He watched as Ace dug his nails into the wooden rail and scowl deeper.

“I know.” He was the commander of the navigation division after all. Ace bumped his shoulder against Marco's gently a few times. “Doing it with a stranger is weird and no one puts up with me when I fall asleep.” Marco held back a comment on the strangeness of fucking someone you didn't know. It was probably for the best not to get into an argument about Ace's sexuality.

Marco bumped his shoulder into Ace's in what he hoped was a comforting way. He looked out at the sunrise changing colors while Ace glowered and growled under his breath for a while, getting out his frustration over the situation. When Ace stopped, hunched over himself and staring past the waves, Marco dared to speak again.

“Would you like me to help, yoi?” There were easily half a dozen things Ace could request, and Marco couldn't think of a single thing he'd say no to.

“Like- Like prescribe something?” asked Ace. His fingers dug into the wood railing.

“Do you want that?” Logias and certain paramecias often reacted oddly to medications. “There's no shame in it.”

“I've tried some.” Ace's nose crinkled up, disgusted. Why start with that if he was so averse?

“And?” Marco asked, like he didn't already know the answer.

“I burn through them. They help, but with how much I need to take…” Ace shrugged. Well, that was better than a bad reaction, Marco supposed.

“Do you keep some on you for emergencies?” Ace ended up in precarious situations, often aboard The Striker, and him falling asleep during those times– He couldn't stand the idea.

“I keep a few days worth of stimulants on me, melatonin, and sleeping pills if that won't work.” He made a disgruntled face. “Shit gives me sleep paralysis.”

“Which one?” That was a particularly bad symptom aboard a pirate ship, where Ace might need to get up into action on a moment's notice.

“The melatonin. I talked to Deuce. It can make it happen more often.” Unfortunate, but at least it wasn't the stimulants. Ace's bouts of insomnia were less frequent than his hypersomnolence. It was simply more important to keep him awake at times. It could have been worse. And well…

“I’m happy,” confessed Marco. He doubted Ace would take well to him being overbearing. It was a miracle he was humoring him this far. Ace had gone himself or acknowledged someone's else's encouragement to get help and medicine. Being proactive in his safety was a progress milestone that warmed Marco more than any sunrise.

“That I get sleep paralysis?” Ace said, moc-offended. “I can't believe you're a doctor.” His incisors poked out of his smile. He never looked more lovely, comfortable and happy enough to tease.

“No...” Marco trailed off. Ace's eyes, normally so dark that it was difficult to tell the color, were glowing a deep mahogany in the morning light. “I'm happy you're safe.”

Ace took in a sharp breath and away from Marco back out to the sunrise. Marco truly hated how affection made Ace so uncomfortable. The crew was good at comradery. Ace never reacted coldly to roughhousing and hugs, but compliments were given less. Would exposing him to them more make him shut off or warm-up?

Ace bumped Marco's shoulder again, before leaning heavily on the rail. He sighed and glanced back at Marco. “What about ah-” He looked around and continued, “-helping me manually?” The blue morning light didn't hide his blush at all.

“I'm the one that offered, yoi.” Marco didn't even have to think about his next answer. “I'd be glad to do anything.” Ah fuck. This was one of the things that skimmed through his mind when he offered help earlier, but it was a pipe dream at best. “How far do you want me to go?” There were so many things he’d do in a heartbeat for him to try suggesting anything. The idea of scaring off Ace when all he wanted was an awkward handjob was terrifying.

“I'd be glad to do anything,” parroted Ace. “Everything.” If only Ace knew what those words invoked. What he wouldn't do to Ace.

Ace was flushed, fingers nervously trailing the grain of the wood, but his eyes were absolutely gleaming. The first bits of sound from some of the morning crew, mostly loud laughter or groan, was starting to drift to where they were.

Marco glanced around. There was no one out quite yet. He moved closer to Ace until they pressed together side to side, and asked quietly, “May I kiss you?” If he couldn't say no to that, if he hesitated at all in his want, Marco would edge out of the deal. He could direct Ace instead of touching him if he decided to take up Marco's offer anyway.

Ace bobbled his head up and down, lips loosely open. His eyes flickered down to Marco's lips. “You’re sure?” confirmed Marco.

Ace breathed out a quiet, “yes” in the scant hands width of room between them. Marco leaned forward, watching Ace's eyes close as he neared, and gave him a single chaste kiss. He could smell some lingering coffee on his breath as he pulled back. Marco opened back up his own eyes and saw Ace's goofy smile.

“You should stop drinking coffee so late,” said Marco, leaning back up against the rail. Ace didn't stop smiling as he huffed at that.

“I heard it's fine first thing in the morning,” quipped back Ace. His grin took on a cheeky lilt. Oh, he was _terrible_. Marco laughed even though he shouldn't and knocked his shoulder into Ace's. The sounds of the crew were getting loud.

“You know where my room is. Come to me when you're ready, yoi,” said Marco as he started to walk away. He doubted Ace wanted rumors going around about them. Ace nodded at him and settled down to finish watching the sunrise.

Marco made it inside, somehow, and leaned against the hallway wall. A few crewmembers walked passed, laden with a new net.

_Holy shit that actually just happened._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Does passing out when trying to jerk off an issue for me? More often than I'd like to admit.)
> 
> -I know it's technically a bulwark, not a rail, but I just don't like the word bulwark. We’ll just both have to live with this. 
> 
> -Also yes I tried to imply Ace as grey-ace solely for the pun


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As warned in chapter one this one does get nsfw but no actual fucking yet. This is also small, but chap 4 is a chonker

The cold making its way around the night crew had let off the following week. Everyone that helped out received some extra time off. It wasn’t much, but Ace’s and Marco’s schedules rarely lined up so well. By the time Ace decided to take up Marco's offer, it was almost dawn of his last day off.   
  
Ace spent the entire night pacing, taking the longest bath in his life, pacing, and then preening himself for a good hour. Ace was clean, had his best underwear on, and he was going to walk across the hallway to Marco’s room. He counted himself lucky that their rooms were so close. Imagine being caught from _that_ walk of shame. He’d have to get rid of any evidence, namely himself.  
  
Marco's door was unlocked. Something about emergency procedures for the medical division called for it. He honestly didn't pay too much attention to the specifics because the point was, Marco's door was never locked if he was in it. It creaked open all too loudly and he slipped in before someone tried to investigate the noise. He would die for his brothers and sisters, but damn if they weren't gossip loving. Begrudgingly, he left the door unlocked. Really, everything would be fine as long as Thatch didn't cut off a toe again, but he sure not going to be the reason something did go wrong.  
  
The blue light from the porthole lit up Marco’s hair. A burnt-out candle sat on his desk, the wax still translucent. Marco hadn’t slept either. Marco, still writing, didn't even bother turning before speaking out, “Ace.”  
  
He recapped his pen and placed it nib-up in a cup, unlike an unnamed few in the second division who kept using Ace's pens and left them nib-down. It was stupidly attractive. His competency that is.  
  
Upon further inspection, the cup didn't actually seem to be on the desk. Ace tilted his head a bit to try to get a better view. Was it nailed into the side of the desk? How pissed about a cup falling over do you have to be before you do that?  
  
“Are you going to stand there all morning, yoi?” asked Marco. Ace’s breath hitched, surprised, and heart pounded. At this angle, the light didn't catch Marco's eyes at all.  
  
“How do you nail a cup?” Fell out of Ace’s mouth before he even noticed the words forming. He was such an idiot.  
  
Marco looked deeply confused. His brows pressed in, and his dark, dark eyes making a quick sweep of Ace's body. Marco scratched his jaw, an ink splatter on it. There’d be nothing to stop him from kissing that tonight, was there?  
  
“Is that supposed to be a pickup line?” Marco teased, the skin by his eyes tugging in a smile.  
  
“No!” If Ace was going to start pickup lines, he'd certainly do better than that. He pointed to the cup he was now sure was nailed to the desk. “That.” Marco squinted at Ace.  
  
“It's drilled, yoi.” Marco’s expression was artificially flat as he spoke, the corners of his lips twitched. He faltered as Ace's deflated, smiling  
  
“Is that a pickup line,” retorted Ace after a moment. Marco wouldn’t call him out on spending a little too much time on a comeback.  
  
“Only if you want it to be,” Marco laughed under his breath. “I'm afraid I’d rather keep any drilling away from my desk today,” he said raking his fingers across his paperwork. The lilt of his smile was handsome, but so so infuriating.  
  
Ace didn't stomp to the window, and he certainly wasn't pouting. He was simply cooling off. Marco’s kept his room stuffy, of course, he’d get hot. Ace unlocked and popped open the window. The air swept in absolutely fucking frigid, and although Ace didn’t feel cold in the traditional sense of the word, saying it was pleasant would be a lie. He rested his arms against the window sill and stood in the cold air.   
  
He heard the chair scuff against the floor, but Marco's footsteps were dead silent. He stood behind Ace, the hairs on the back of his neck rising at the proximity. A phantom feeling of a hand hovered above his waist before Marco leaned in against him. Ace’s back where Marco pressed himself against was nearly unbearably warm. An arm wrapped around Ace's middle and Marco's stubble nearly burnt where it pressed into his neck.  
  
“You're sure you want to go through with this, yoi?” Marco kissed the back of his neck gently. His hair tickled where the ends brushed against Ace’s ear. Ace couldn’t help dropping his head forward, shuddering at the feeling of Marco's stubble scraping against his neck with the movement. He reached back, tugging Marco’s hair lightly until he followed his hand. He tilted his head back to bring Marco into a kiss but missed, instead catching the ink spot on his jaw. Good enough, really. Ace wanted to kiss that anyway.  
  
“I'm sure.” Ace went to turn around, to kiss Marco properly this time, but the other grabbed the back of his shoulders before he could. “Huh?” He saw a flash of Marco's grinning face before he tossed Ace forward onto the bed. Ace caught himself on his hands and knees. “Why’d you do that?” Being roughhoused was kinda sexy, but Marco just needed to ask and he would have moved. He went to push himself up. Ace wanted that kiss and he was going to get it. Marco pressed his hand down on Pops mark until his chest hit the bed.  
  
“So I can do this,” said Marco. He grabbed onto the back of Ace's shorts and yanked. It slid down, getting caught on his ass. Was Marco eager or wanting to get it over with? Marco gripped tightly onto Ace’s hip with one hand. He wasn’t that much taller than Ace, but fuck were his hands big. It span from the fingers digging into his hip bone to the thumb pressed into the dimples at the lowest portion of his back. How would those fingers feel in him? Marco leveraged with the hand on his hip to pull his shorts down with the other hand. It fell down to his ankles, catching on his boots. Marco's hand trailed down from his hip, over his thighs, and down his legs slowly before reaching his shoes.  
  
Ace pushed himself up to look back at Marco. He made an awfully pretty picture at his feet. Would Marco find that offensive? He caught Marco’s eyes, who smiled at him gently. Ace grinned down at him and settled to tell him. Marco sent him a suspicious look as Ace’s grin grew cheeky.  
  
“I'm sure I don't need to hear what you were about to say, yoi.” Ace growled back. Marco pushed Ace’s legs apart and grabbed his ass. He was getting something at least.  
  
Marco massaged everything from Ace’s lower back to thighs. It felt good and would have gotten him frustrated if he was fully hard, or better yet if Marco was already in him, but he wasn't. He fancied the thought of kicking him. Was this supposed to be foreplay? He thought the point of this was so he wouldn't fall asleep?  
  
Either way Ace enjoyed it. He would never turn down a massage and this was nice. Really nice, but if Marco didn't have an even nicer pillow. What was in it? Buckwheat husks maybe? Ace heard that down pillows were nice and bought one for his own bed, but he found it too soft. Ace pulled it a bit more under his body and rubbed his cheek on it.  
  
Marco spread Ace’s legs apart with his knees. He grasped Ace's hip and spread his ass with one hand. By the click that rang out, Ace guessed the other was fumbling with a bottle of lube.   
  
For a man that barely slept, Marco hadn’t spared any expense on his bed. Ace blinked and found himself slouched further into it. Oh no. He shifted himself to try looking back, to try telling Marco, _“Hey, I know your fingers are about to go in my ass, but I need to do a few squats and then not sit down for thirty minutes.”_ But reality flickered in and out, like portions missing from a damaged film reel. His movements stalled before he could finish them. Marco would understand, hopefully.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t really sure how to describe falling asleep when _by god_ you wanna be awake. I find it's like everything slips for a moment and im back, and then it slips, and im back. I was having a really bad day in one of my anatomy lectures last ah spring? Fall? And you can actually see the notes go from Nice Handwritting to Oh Fuck What’s That?? and back to Nice, as I fell in and out of consciousness (or maybe microsleeps?? I'm not too sure what that would count as. I'm not too sure if I was microsleeping or delirious lmao).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promised chonker. This is abt the size of all the other chapters combined. Smuts about 1/4 of the way down

It was a well-known fact across the Mobydick that Marco needed very little sleep. In times when a division or shift was ill, he would take on a week's worth of work. Another well-known fact was that Ace’s already precocious sleep schedule turned hopeless if it was so much as prodded an hour either way. Ace fell asleep everywhere, even when he wasn't losing sleep over his own dick. The proof laid naked in front of him. If Marco decided to sleep by him, Ace's nap might divulge into the next day. 

Ace wouldn't adjust, and almost more importantly, Marco couldn't head to the port town they were set to arrive that day. Marco slid out of bed and patted his Ace's still stuck out ass. He snorted in amusement and lifted up Ace's hips with one hand and straightened out his legs with the other. The blanket came out from under him with no real difficulty. He set it aside while he assessed the situation.

Marco would never confess how much he spent on his bed, but none of that went to its size. The commanders all had private rooms, but they were still on a ship with a limited amount of space. Marco preferred keeping extra cabinets and a desk in his. The size of his bed suffering was never an issue until now. He didn’t even intend to bring people back to his room. He generally stuck with the fuck-rooms or kept outside the ship for these kinds of activities. He wanted Ace to have the option to approach him whenever he wanted, so rendezvousing at a fuck-room wouldn’t do. He would simply have to be fine with spooning. Marco sure was. 

He turned Ace over so his back faced the wall. Ace would also have to be fine being the big spoon. Marco had a book to read. He also had a cold wall, and although he ran a few degrees hotter than normal, he was a fire-bird, not a fire-man who voluntarily opened the window when it was freezing outside. He tucked Ace’s back into the blanket before pushing him against the wall for insulation. 

After that, it was simply closing the window, slipping off the rest of his own clothes, and grabbing the book he’d been postponing since the night shift fiasco. He pulled Ace's arm around his torso and with a scrap of the blanket, and desperately tried not to fall asleep. 

As soon as they hit port, Marco reluctantly got out of bed and left. They planned to stay for the next few days, but if Ace approached him again, he hoped, then he wanted a few extra things. They could get by on a bottle of lube alone, but it was more exciting this way. 

Marco returned back to an empty Mobydick. Everyone a skeleton crew fled the moment they hit port. It was a bit weird that Marco hadn’t come across a few siblings in the particular shop he hit. He supposed it was due to people wanting to grab the things he bought last.

Surprisingly, Marco found Ace missing from his bed. He expected him to sleep at least a few more hours. Less surprisingly, the bed was a mess. He snorted at that and opened a should have been empty desk drawer. 

His fountain laid in it instead of in his cup. Maybe Ace left him a note and placed the pen in there? He must have been terribly embarrassed. 

He picked up the pen and replaced it with the bag. He went to toss the pen into the cup, but it skittered across the floor. Marco couldn't think of a time he missed before. Was he that distracted? He picked up the pen and went to go put it away by hand this time, but his cup was one. 

No. Ace took his cup. It was Marco's fault for being sappy enough to think he might have left a letter. 

He contemplated going to Ace's room to confront the beast himself. He walked over to his bed and fiddled with the blanket. Or, he could sleep. It was nearly almost 96 hours of being awake. He could stay awake for a week without some of the nastier effects, but it was hardly pleasant. His coordination was going down and it would be irresponsible to attempt surgery if anything happened. The bed was just the slightest bit warm as he climbed into it. 

Before becoming a pirate, Marco just assumed everyone was fine, competent even, wielding knives and swords while being shit-faced drunk. He was wrong. Marco had never been so wrong. Marco was so wrong in fact that he had post-port finger reattachment duty due to his devil fruit. 

* * *

After his last shift, he meandered back to his room, dreading the budget reports the other division commanders would send him later that week. 

They went overboard at this port. Two people had to get a finger reattached in completely separate cases. He swore that they had gotten less careful since it became evident that his devil fruit made reattachment pretty much a guaranteed success. _Drink more! Let’s see who can stab a knife between their fingers the fastest. Marco can reattach it._

He walked past a few supply closets, a strange buzzing coming from it. A perfect way to top of the night really, finding a room making a suspicious noise. He carefully placed his hand on the doorknob and listened. They just left port, and rival pirate crews had tried sneaking bombs on before. No one had succeeded yet, but if there was anything dangerous behind the door, Marco was the only one guaranteed to recover. 

Carefully, he opened the door and peeked in. He wasn’t wrong that it was a fire hazard. Ace was laying on the floor, at least a dozen cats lounging on him as some sort of blanket. Every single one was purring.

He scooted a tuxedo cat away from the door with his foot. It blinked back drowsily. How did they all get in there? He closed the door behind him and tiptoed to Ace. Marco was reluctant to touch any cat's stomach, no matter how cute they were or his regenerative properties. Ace, however, had his face fully planted in Kotatsu’s stomach. 

“You’re looking for me?” asked Ace, voice muffled by a fucking lynx. He lifted his head and blinked up at Marco like the cat from earlier. 

“No.” There were about twenty cats in what might have been about sixty square feet. Most of the space was taken up by rice bags. “I could hear the cats through the door.”

“Huh.” Ace looked surprised for a man napping on a cat that sounded more like a vacuum purring. Marco pushed a few cats away with his feet. He sat down by Ace and watched one scramble into a vent. That’s how they got into here. He squinted a bit at Ace. He expected Ace to be moody, but languishing on Kotatsu wasn't exactly what he had in mind. 

“What has you so down?” There had to be something else. Ace huffed and sent Marco a look. 

“We failed,” Ace said after Marco stared him down for several moments. He shoved his face back on Kotatsu. Marco couldn’t help a smile at his dramatics and rubbed his shoulder.

“I thought you of all people would know that we don't give up that easy, yoi.” Ace peaked out of the mound of fur and looked back up at him blandly. “I bought a few things to help.” Ace’s expression soured. “Not meds. I stopped and picked up some toys at the last port. I’ve been waiting for you to come back.” Marco made a noncommittal shrug. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” said Ace, sitting up. Marco watched as all the cats clambered down him in a cacophony of disgruntled meows. “I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you didn't want to anymore.”

“I’ve been waiting for you, yoi.” There were a lot of reasons why, but it could mostly be summarized with- “It’s your dick.” Ace nodded begrudgingly at his excuse. 

“Show me?” Ace shuffled his feet across the floor shuffling the now carpet of cats out of the way, Marco being drug along. They left the door open as they stumbled out. Thankfully, No one spotted them coming out of a closet like a pair of horny teenagers. They’d never hear the end of it. 

“Looks like you’ve decided yourself,” said Marco. Ace was so eager. It was cute. He couldn't help adding, “You just wanna see? I’m sure we can do more than that.” Ace looked back at Marco, eyes flickering down to where he was holding his hand as he drug him along. 

“Depends on if you got something nice,” said Ace grinning. By the time Marco had his door closed and the key hanging on its hook, Ace was sitting on the bed impatiently, feet swinging. 

“So where is it,” Ace asked. He glanced around the room as if Marco would just leave it out in the open. Marco opened up the drawer and got a bit of vindictive satisfaction at Ace stiffening as he first placed his pen on the desk, and then with a loud thump, the bag.

He passed the bag over to Ace. He took it and held it above his lap warily. Maybe Marco shouldn't have put attention to Ace's thievery. It wasn't as if he put anything expressly to punish Ace in there. (Although he could think of some more cruel ways to use his gifts.) Ace shuffled through the contents, lifted it back up, and shook it at Marco. 

“You want to use this on me. Old man can’t finish someone without some assistance?” His shoulders were back as he spoke with false bravado. 

“Or you can use it on yourself, yoi.” Marco would love to see, but this was all for Ace. He watched as the bag and Ace's expression fell. 

“I want your help,” Ace said. His fingers played with the bag's handle as he added, “if you’d give it to me.” 

“Always.” Marco places Ace's shoulder so he'd remain sitting. He pressed his thumb into where Ace's shoulder met collarbone and revealed in how Ace bared his neck in response. 

Carefully, Marco knelt until one of his knees rested on either side of Ace’s. Taking his hand from Ace's shoulder, he brushed his hair behind his ear. His chest fluttered under his hand as he trailed it down. Ace sent him a soft smile, eyes quicksilver warm, and went perfectly still as Marco pressed a gentle kiss against the junction of his neck and shoulder. 

Marco held himself back from following his hand the rest of the way down, and instead roughly ran his thumb in the divot of Ace’s hip. 

“Tell me if it's ever too much, yoi.” 

“Says the man that couldn't even keep me awake last time,” said Ace, wrapping his legs around Marco. With a mischievous grin, he kicked Marco in the ass with the heel of his foot. Unforeseen to him, it forced Marco forward, grinding his thigh between Ace’s. Ace wheezed and grasped onto Marco's shoulders. 

“I'll do my best,” laughed Marco. He pulled Ace's hips and guided Ace in a slow grind against his thigh. He pecked Ace's lips, catching the lightest moan from him.

“How much coffee do you drink?” Marco asked, no small amount distressed. He could still smell coffee on his breath like other time he kissed Ace.

“I don't drink water,” Ace replied back sheepishly. Marco couldn't think of a response because Ace didn't drink water. Logia or not that couldn't be good. 

Ace looked away, his hips sputtering to a stop. Trying to keep Ace from feeling too self-conscious, he kissed him again. He quickly pulled back, pressed one to the corner of his mouth, and continued down, biting gently at Ace's throat. He felt more than heard him moan. 

He gave Ace’s hip a final good squeeze before he gave in and dropped to the floor. His knees thunked against it painfully. Ace looked down at him disgruntled. 

Marco smiled back up, pressing Ace's thighs apart with one hand, and starting on his buckle with the other. “Is this okay?” asked Marco. He kept eye contact with Ace, watching as his blush bloomed down to his chest. 

“Always.” Ace kicked him again, this time in the shoulder. Marco held his laugh tight in his chest, instead slipping Ace's shorts down to his knees. 

He hid his smile in Ace's thigh. Ace’s muscles tensed and loosened underneath the velvet-soft skin of his inner thigh, like he couldn't decide whether to close or spread his legs more. He nipped at the skin gently, building up to leave a hickey. Ace would be bound to see it over the next few days.

Ace sat ramrod still, a hand resting on Marco's shoulder. Marco rubbed one hand reassuringly on one thigh, while he kissed up the other. Making it to the top, he ran a finger under the edge of Ace's underwear. 

Earlier, he felt Ace starting to harden up against him, but it still sent a thrill down his spine to gently run a finger down the evidence that, yes, Ace wanted this too. He heard Ace's breath shudder as he lifted his finger up, and replaced it with a kiss. 

Ace's thighs started to creep shut around Marco's shoulders, but he took his other hand and pressed them open even more. At that, Ace let out a high pitched airy sound, his hips stalling into a thrust. Marco could see Ace's fingers clenching into the blanket. 

He continued pressing kisses, divulging to mouth at him. Ace's thighs twitched in his hands. Marco smiled against him and moved one hand up to play at the crease of Ace's thigh and hip beneath his underwear. He pulled back, admiring Ace's flushed heaving chest and his scrunched up face. 

“Ace.” He peeked down at Marco, growing breathless. Marco slipped the hand from the junction of Ace's thigh up through the top of his underwear. He crooked his fingers and tugged. “Help me a little, yoi?” 

“Isn't that what you're supposed to be doing?” Ace smiled and ran his thumb through the hair at the base of Marco's neck. He rested his hands back on the bed, set his feet firmly on the ground and lifted himself up for Marco to tug down his underwear. 

Marco has seen Ace nude plenty of times. Even on such a large ship, it was hard to avoid. The man normally had no shame. It was delightedly novel to see him so entirely embarrassed over it now. Ace unhooked his legs from either side of him. Marco sat up straight. Maybe Ace lost the mood? 

“Is everything okay?” Marco asked. Ace responded with his boots meeting Marco’s chest, resting on either side of Pop's mark. His shoulders were back, chest a lovely pink and pushed forward. He grinned down at Marco. It took all of Marco's will not to melt into the floor. 

“Why don't you help me with my boots?” asked Ace. Grasping one of Ace's boots and untying it, Marco could see every line of a captain that blazed into the new world at record speed. Ace rested a leg on Marco's shoulder. His fingers started crumpling the sheets again. 

Finishing with one boot, Marco lifted up the other and untied it. The laces slid through his fingers so quickly they burned, but he found himself uncaring.

Ace's feet sat on either side of Marco's knees, and Marco couldn't help a droopy grin finally seeing the full of him. Marco rested a hand on Aces knee and asked, “What would you like now, yoi?” Ace’s confidence faltered for just a moment. 

“You're the one that offered to help me.” Ace’s foot kicked out, hitting the bag of toys Marco bought him earlier. 

“I can use those a later, yoi.” Marco traced his thumb up the vein on the underside of Ace's cock, until he got to the head. He gave him a rough pump, pulling back his foreskin. Ace gave a soft moan, more air than anything. Marco thumbed Ace's slit, spreading a drop of precum there until Ace kicked his thigh. He stopped and instead gave a ghosting handjob, occasionally pressing his thumb just the slightest bit harder coming up to his frenulum. 

Ace growled, an utterly frustrated look coming to his face, and went to grab himself. Marco caught his hand and brought it up to his face, giving it a kiss. “You just need to tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you, yoi.” 

His words didn't appease Ace at all. He tried yanking his hand back, but Marco held on tightly, instead dragging Ace down slightly. He kissed the corner of Ace's mouth before giving him a single harsh pump, and asked again, “What do you want me to do Ace?” 

Either too embarrassed or too stubborn to confess, Marco was unsure, Ace grabbed Marco and dragged him onto the bed. He wrested Marco onto his back and forced his shoulders to stay down with one hand. 

“What I want-” he ground down on the so-far untouched Marco. “Is for you to help me with the gifts you most graciously gave me,” said Ace, voice rough. After taking a deep breath, Ace sat back onto Marco's thighs. 

“Come on,” Ace urged, undoing Marco's sash. “The bags right there.” Marco stretched out to get it, and let out a groan when Ace used the moment to palm him. Marco shifted his knees higher so Ace could rest his arms back on them. 

“What do you want first, yoi?” Marco asked, placing the bag on his chest. He had cleaned and unpacked everything that needed to be before he gave it to Ace. Purposely lifting himself up so he wouldn't touch Marco, Ace leaned forward and rummaged through the bag oh his chest. 

“This!” Ace held out a dildo, looking absurdly proud. Marco specifically bought it because it seemed non-threatening. It was a reasonable size, a semi-clear lavender, and the material was on the softer side of things. Still, Ace's excitement over it was cute. 

“There should be a few bottles of lube in the bag.” His voice came out quieter, more infatuated, than he liked but Ace didn't seem to notice. He felt him place the toy on his lower stomach where the bag blocked his view. 

Ace chose a pastel pink bottle, something flavored if Marco remembered right. He paused, turning it over and grabbed one of Marco's hands. A bit of a waste for flavored lube in his opinion, but it was Ace's choice.

There was a glint in his eye as he squeezed a dollop onto Marco's index finger and put back the bottle. He’d need more than that. Before he could tell him, Ace popped Marco's finger in his mouth. 

Ace picked up and put back another lube, a warming one, all with Marco's finger in his mouth. He held back a moan as Ace laved his finger gently. After his previous irritation, Marco expected there to be a few more teeth involved if anything entered his mouth. 

Finding something he liked, Ace gave one last suck to Marco's finger before giving it a kiss. “You'll pick the next one.” Ace dropped down into a quick rewarding grind, before pulling back up and placed the bottle of lube into Marco's hand. 

“I hope you don't mind if I pick now, yoi,” said Marco. He snatched two things from the bag and set the rest on the floor. Ace might be made of fire, but he still placed the dildo beneath his leg to warm up. 

The lube Ace picked was plain and cold dripping onto Marco's fingers. He used his clean hand to push open his thighs a tad more. Ace shifted back, resting an arm on one of Marco's knees, and continued to hover right above him teasingly. 

He circled Ace's entrance lightly a few times, before pressing a finger in. Ace scrunched up his nose slightly but wasn't seemingly in any pain. He pressed in deeper and began to slowly finger him

Marco slid his other hand from Ace's thighs up into the divot of his hip where he a good squeeze, and then as far up his back as he could reach. “Won't you come a bit closer?”Marco asked. Ace let himself be pulled forward until his forearms hit the bed on either side of Marco. 

“I think it's hard to be any closer than this,” laughed Ace. At that, Marco started pressing in with a second finger. Ace let out a small gasp. 

“I'm sure we could find a way, yoi,” he said sliding the arm resting on Ace's back up to his neck. He kissed Ace in a single sweet motion and pulled back just as fast. Ace's hair curtained both of them, and from this close, Marco could count even the tiniest freckle. Ace’s heavy breathing started catching into airy moans as Marco started rubbing at the front of his walls in a bid against his prostate. 

Ace shuffled his arm to grab Marco's hair. His blush, so heavily earlier, had nearly receded. It started climbing back to his ears as he leaned forward and gave his own kiss, just as soft and sweet as Marco did earlier. 

He pulled back, taking a heaving gulp of air. His eyes flickered open from where they were scrunched shut, and his eyebrows were pulled down. It was impossible not to wipe away that expression, Marco thought, pulling him forward into another kiss. 

He traced his fingers through the fine hair at the base of Ace's neck and waited and waited, keeping it an assuring soft press. He waited until Ace pulled away just to only give Marco another kiss. He could feel the way Ace smile against him. He could feel Ace's hand in his hair, keeping him close. And he could feel it when Ace melted into him just a little more. 

Marco parted his lips slightly and bit Ace's bottom lip gently. All the while, he moved down his hand to grab his ass and press a third finger into him. Ace's lip caught in his teeth as he tugged back with a gasp. 

He followed Ace, chasing the kiss, the hand in his hair was beginning painful. The stop and go stalling of Ace’s breathing and testing rolls of Ace's hips kept him from saying anything. 

He felt something drip onto his lower stomach. A moment later, another drop hit. Marco dragged himself back from the kiss, Ace's face folding into his neck where he panted. A soft burgeoning keen echoed right into his ear. 

With Ace right there, he wasn't able to see beneath him to see what was dripping. Did he use too much lube? He curled his fingers in deeply, as if trying to feel harder would tell him. Ace let out a wheezing moan. 

“Fuck, Marco,” He choked out. Ace hips gave a slightly deeper roll. Marco felt a drop hit his shoulder. Letting go of his hair, Ace forced himself up, cold air rushing in the gap between them. Ace couldn't keep his head straight or his mouth fully closed. A few tears hung in his eyelashes. 

Marco saw more than felt a drop of Ace's precum hit his stomach this time. Fuck. He gave out a throaty moan at the site. Ace fully settled in his lap, legs shamelessly spread open. He smiled down at Marco. 

“I thought you were gonna help me use my presents,” Ace said. His voice came out raspy, like Marco had spent this time throat-fucking him instead. He rolled his hips and puffed out his chest, his smile growing cocky as Marco's eyes roved up and down his body. 

Marco placed his thumb down on Ace's perineum and curled the rest of his fingers inwards onto his prostate. Ace gave a full-body shudder and left Marco longing for him to come back closer to hear what must have been a pale moan heave out of his chest. 

“If that's what you’d like, yoi.” With one last teasing curl, Marco slipped his fingers out and went to grab and lube the dildo he set underneath his thigh earlier. He watched as Ace followed his movements, and shifted himself open just that much more when Marco placed it at his rim. 

“I'll hold it steady for you.” A brief flicker of irritation flashed across Ace's face. He lifted himself slightly before coming down in a choppy unsure motion. His teeth were clamped tight around his bottom lip. He just as slowly lifted himself back up and started riding the dildo as delicate as Marco had ever seen. If Marco shifted up remove Ace's lip out of his teeth. he'd jar him out of place. 

“Ace,” said Marco. His movements hesitated a moment before starting again. “Tell me when you get tired.” Marco paused Ace by grabbing his hip with his free hand. He looked down, confused, and nodded. Marco adjusted the angle and gave a deep hard thrust with the dildo. Ace let go of his lip with a gasp. 

Ace started riding it faster, more confident in his movements. It was still more languid than Marco would like. So with his hand still on Ace's hip, he helped pull Ace up a bit before dragging him back down. Ace resumed the speed Marco left him at, panting with the effort. 

Marco let go of Ace’s hip and not looking, fished around for the toy he picked out earlier. He tapped Ace's leg with it a few times before he stopped, hops twitching with the effort. “Open this up for me, won't you?” asked Marco. Unsteady, Ace let go of Marco’s legs where he was supporting himself and took it. 

“Why'd you give me an egg?” asked Ace. He turned it around a few times, thumbing the edge of the plastic film around it. 

“It's not an egg, yoi,” said Marco. “Eggs don't come in plastic.” Ace ripped open the plastic casing. 

“Now it's not in plastic!” Ace squeezed it. A packet of lube and a small piece of paper dropped from the bottom. Marco snatched both away. 

“Real eggs don't come with pieces of paper in them.” Marco waved it in emphasis, before tossing it away. It made it about a foot before fluttering to the floor. 

“I'm sure you'd know,” Ace said with an outrageously entertained look on his face. Marco looked up at him despairingly and motioned for the egg. 

“If you'll give it back, I can show you what it's used for, yoi.” Ace did, leaned back, and rode the other toy slowly as he watched. Marco, awkwardly as he was one hand down, gave a generous dollop of the lube he picked earlier into the space the paper fell out of. Ace only looked more confused. Marco moved the egg to the tip of Ace's dick and re-made eye contact. 

“I think I'm bigger than an egg,” stated Ace a bit blandly. Marco knew very well he was. 

“I know,” said Marco, sliding the egg down. It stretched and stretched all the way down to the base of Ace’s dick. Marco could feel the inner textured surface of the egg now that it was stretched out. “I can feel that quiet well, yoi.” Ace let out a high pitched keen and gave an aborted roll of his hips. 

“That's fucking cold,” howled out Ace. He tried retching himself away, but Marco gave another heavy-handed pump. He moaned and dropped. Ace nails dig into his knees as he snarled out, “Why.” 

“I’m sure you saw the warming one earlier,” said Marco. He gave another pump. Ace made a movement like he wasn't sure if he wanted to thrust into the motion or away from it. “This one cools instead. You don't want things to end too early, do you, yoi?” He was sure that Ace was going to draw blood soon he was latching onto Marco's knees so hard. 

“We're trying to get me off.” It came out more wheezy then aggressive. He tried riding the dildo to distract himself again, but Marco pumped the egg, sleeve, with him. 

“I thought we were testing out all your new toys, yoi,” Marco offered up, not covering the fact that he was lying at all. Ace made a whining noise. There were at least a dozen things in that bag.

“No. We have enough damn toys out.” He started bouncing a bit faster, getting more used to everything. Something flashed through his eyes, and he sent an inquiring look down at Marco. 

“Actually-” He panted at a partially rough twist of Marco's wrist. “There's one more toy I wanna try out,” said Ace. 

He rose until the dildo slid out and swatted Marco's hand with it away. He grabbed a bottle of lube, the cooling one, and tossed it away. Marco hoped it didn't spill over his floor. 

“Lift your hips a little,” he said. Marco obeyed, and Ace slid his pants and underwear down to his knees. Marco didn't want to take it off himself earlier. It was already loose enough not to hurt. Ace had no obligation to fuck him. It felt so much better off though. 

Ace took the bottle of plain lube and lathered Marco’s dick in a few quick pumps. Even though Ace hadn't warmed it at all, Marco couldn't help dropping his head back and moaning. 

He finally, finally moved from where he hovered above Marco's thighs to where he was holding Marco. There was an absolutely wild look in his eyes, face flushed, hair in disarray, teeth glinting in the light from his grin. He looked up from where he was steadying Marco, breathtaking with eye contact 

“You're sure you want this?” asked Ace. 

“I told you.” He caressed the divot of Ace's hips with his thumbs, “that you just need to tell me what you want.” He dragged Ace down onto him as slow as he could force himself. “Of course I’d want you.” Marco knew Ace ran even hotter than he did, but experiencing it was something different. If he was a degree or two hotter and it might have hurt. 

Ace choked a little, be it by his words or actions, and let gravity take over as he fell down the rest of the way. He sat there, breathless, holding Marco’s hands over his hips. 

“Show me how much you want me,” he said, brittle. The pace he started was slow and arrhythmic like every other time he started back up riding, but that was fine with Marco. He assuaged it into long deep rolls that left Ace's fingers clenching against Marco's hands as he went down. 

Ace’s neck dropped into a long line as he melted into the rhythm. In any other position, Marco would have left a thousand marks against it or simply felt his soft moans tumble out. He settled with the feeling of Ace clutching his hands and the tremor of his thighs as he forced himself to come back up. 

“You're beautiful,” Marco said helplessly. Ace faltered. His head lolled forward as he looked down at Marco, confused. 

“W-what?” Marco hated how Ace took compliments, as if it was impossible that people cared. He’d tell Ace as many times as it took for it to sink in. 

“Handsome, gorgeous.” Ace blushed deeper, his hips stuttering. “You're every good word out there.” Ace was as flushed as Marco had ever seen him. Marco steadied and kept him bouncing steadily as he talked. 

“I can't believe you asked me. You could have anyone on this ship.” He could but he chose him. Ace made what was either a questioning noise or a strange moan. Marco adjusted the angle of Ace’s hips until he clenched down, voice keening. 

“Everyone loves you. How couldn't they?” Ace moaned undeniably this time. His fingers scrambled across Marcos for purchase. One of Ace's hands tugged Marco’s away from his hip. 

“You-” He shuddered as he fell back down. “You said you'd help me.” There were overwhelmed tears pooling up into his lashes again. 

“I'm so close.” Ace lead their hands to his length. The lube had gone tacky, and it couldn't have been fully pleasant. He made it impossible to tell by how he clutched onto Marco. He could barely keep himself up. Marco swiped his thumb over the head, hoping to pull some precum to smoothen it out. 

Ace gave a tremulous roll of his hips at that, his moan stuttering. His thighs shook as he rose up, and him coming down was a simple drop. Marco was surprised that there weren't any blue flames coming from Ace’s fingers digging into Marcos on his hip. 

“You're so good Ace.” He was. Fuck Marco didn't want to come before Ace, but it didn't look like he had much of a choice at this point. 

Marco gave a heavy thrust of his hips as he came. He forced his gaze to stay on Ace instead of letting his head drop back, and saw his eyes widen. 

“No no no don't st- ah stop.” Forcing himself through his oversensitivity, Marco kept guiding Ace up and down and started thrusting his hips up with him. Little ah, ah, ah, moans dropped out of Ace’s mouth. 

“Don't stop,” full tears started running down Ace’s cheeks. “I'm gonna-” He saw Ace grit his teeth down and felt his nails cut into him. His thighs were shaking. Marco rubbed his thumb across the head of Ace's dick and cupped his fingers around the tip as he came. It smeared thick between his fingers as he made a few slow pumps until Ace swatted his hand away. 

“My legs are fucking tired,” said Ace. He dropped down onto Marco. 

“Just those?” Marco asked. Ace slid off of him limply onto the bed as Marco grabbed one of the hand towels he’d left on his nightstand last week. He wiped his hand clean.

Ace was taking up the bed like a cat. Everything from his ribs to hips was heaving with deep breaths still. Marco nudged him. He rolled over, back facing Marco. Ah, Ace preferred being the little spoon then? 

Marco went to go throw an arm over Ace and pull him closer but stopped. The shaking had moved to his shoulders and fuck he was crying, wasn't he? It was incredibly rare for Marco to sleep with a crewmate, the ever-present fear that they were too scared of his position to say no kept him soft, but this was Ace. Surely, he would have just caught on fire? Told him off? Done anything but drag him through the motions and then cry after? 

“Ace,” his voice was desperately rough. “I'm so sorry.” His shoulders shook even harder for a second, before a cracking sob wretched out of his throat. 

“You're sorry?” It came out like static through a radio. What Marco wouldn't do for him to scream and yell instead. It was the least he deserved. “Why?” asked Ace. Tears smeared across his face as he turned around. “I–” a few more tears spilled down. “You, you didn't want me,” he said breathlessly, like it was the revelation of the ages, like he wasn't dazzling even now, crying. 

“No. No. I wanted you. I still do. I'm sorry you didn't want me.” He started to reach out his hand to clean up Ace’s face but stopped. How could he ever want Marco to touch him?

“No, no. I'm,” he placed his hand in Marco's hovering one. “Happy.” He tugged Marco closer and curled into his chest. “I don't know. It was a lot.” 

Trying to making light of it, Marco spoke into his hair, “I've had some people say that about me during sex, but rarely after.” Ace was young, a dick joke might help pull him out of it. 

“Rarely?” Images of some of the things he and several of the crew used to get up to and even those outside of it went unbidden through his head. 

“Rarely.” Unspoken came the caveats. Rarely for the person, he tried leaving in charge, and never after a scene without binds, nor blood, nor a single begging word. 

Oh, but Ace begged, didn't he? He might be gutted if he said that aloud, but it was undeniable. Marco's teasing and prodding to get him to take charge, to cast away any of his own doubts that yes, Ace wanted this too, hadn't left the other giving orders. It left him _begging_. Marco was supposed to be experienced, yet he did this. He was such a fucking idiot. 

Not to upset Ace again, he murmured, “Was there anything you didn't enjoy, something I could change?” For next time, he left implied.

“No no no. It's me being a stupid crybaby,” Ace said wetly into his chest. Marco scratched and rubbed a hand down his back, feeling Ace melt into the motion. 

“It's not so rare for someone to cry, yoi,” consoled Marco. It really wasn't. Marco had cried before. He felt Ace stiffen and take in a deep breath, maybe to argue, but he didn't give him an opportunity. 

“It's emotional, sex that is,” He continued. “It's an exercise for the body and mind. Think of every reaction you've seen after a battle. Some people laugh, some cry, some go sleep, eat, bathe, or don't show a single reaction at all. It's all out there, yoi.” Ace's was still horribly stiff under his fingers. 

“It was just sex,” said Ace. Even now Ace was stubborn down to his bones. 

“This shows that you're human. No son of the devil would be so overwhelmed by just sex that he would cry after.” At that, Ace broke down, crying. He cupped Ace’s face and pressed kisses all across it. 

“That's gross,” protested Ace, trying to squirm away. 

“You're still the same Ace that I kissed earlier.” He gave a weak sob and scrubbed his face. Marco grabbed the hand rubbing at his face and pulled it away to kiss Ace. It was wet. “Yup, nothing's changed.”Ace laughed weakly and shoved his face away. 

“Would you like me to get the washbasin or stay here. It's already filled. I just need to reach over.” He jabbed his thumb back to where he grabbed the hand towel from earlier. 

“It's fine.” Ace's voice came out a bit tight and rough. He watched as Marco leaned over, poured the water from the pitcher into the basin, and dampen a towel. He hissed as Marco brought it to his face. 

“That's cold,” he protested, not bothering to move. Marco folded the cloth in half and started lathing it across Ace's neck and chest. 

“Ah sorry. I can't do much about that.” He ran it down an arm before holding Ace's hand. He cleaned each one of his fingers. Ace's breathing slowed down with the motion. He picked up a clean cloth and started on Ace's other arm. He’d wash them all in the morning. This time, he pressed a kiss to each of Ace’s fingers as he finished cleaning them. 

It took four more cloths before he was finished. Marco kept a small tub of lotion in nightstand drawer for dry islands, but it couldn't hurt to use now. He took out a dollop and massaged it onto Ace's thighs. He gave out a throaty groan, louder than anything else he’d done that night. He smiled back up at Marco from where he was now sprawled over the bed. 

“Would you do this in the morning too?” Ace tilted his head into the pillow and looked up at him through one eye.

“Of course.” Marco would do this every day if Ace asked. Hell, he might do it even if Ace didn't. Seeing Ace languid and sprawled out over his bed was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Ace stretched out, several somethings popping as he did. 

“Would you roll over?” asked Marco, lightly patting Ace’s thigh. He had no idea how long Ace had ridden him for. Whatever time it was couldn’t have been easy on Ace’s back. 

“Mmm, no,” yawned out Ace. Marco laughed and prepared to turn him over himself. If Ace didn’t want to move a muscle right now, Marco would gladly oblige doing it for him. Before he could, Ace he sat up. “Can I wash you too?” asked Ace, stretching his shoulders. 

“If you want to.” How could he say no? Ace was smiling so sweetly at him. Marco went to grab Ace a towel, but was stopped by his hand on his shoulder. 

“I thought it was my turn,” he said, pushing Marco until he was sitting firmly on the bed. Ace dampened a cloth and ran it softly across one of Marco's shoulders. 

He was hardly as much of a mess as Ace was. Even so, Ace took to the task as delicately as he took to making maps. By the time he got to Marco's back, Ace's stomach gave a loud growl. Ace stiffened and continued cleaning.

“I have some bread and dried fruit in my desk,” offered Marco. Ace stopped and looked up eagerly at him.

“Which drawer?” Marco had a feeling that he would have to move or significantly increase his stash. 

“The second drawer, left-hand side. I’ll get it, yoi.” Before Ace could protest, he was halfway across the room. “Just make yourself comfortable.” 

Opening the drawer Marco rummaged until he found a few cans of coffee. Certainly not the best thing to drink before bed, but he was relieved to find anything to. Either way, Ace didn’t seem to care about caffeine at inopportune times. 

Turning back around, coffee and a bag of food sitting in his arms, he found that Ace hadn’t moved. He raised an eyebrow at him. That was in no way Marco's definition of getting comfortable. Ace wiggled his eyebrows back and tossed the rag in the pile.

“Oh just enjoying the view.” Ace pulled the blanket around his shoulders and patted the spot beside him. Ace’s face lit up as he tossed him a can of coffee. He settled in beside him. 

Thatch slammed open the door, holding something cloth-wrapped and bloody. “It wasn't me this time!” Vista stood behind him, holding Haruta in a bridal carry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me editing this: sappy bastard 
> 
> -Fun facts from the useless research I did for this chapter: Birds run a body temperature of ~105F/40.6C. The pain threshold for people depending on the point of contact runs from 107F/41.7Cish on the chest to 121F/49.4ish on the feet. Hands are about ~110F/43.3C. There's always variables ofc
> 
> -Goodbye Ace's thighs. Press F to pay respects

**Author's Note:**

> Thank u for reading my dudes. If there's a mistake please tell me. I haven't written/published fanfiction in like six or seven years and never on ao3. I also have the emotional vigor of badly set jello, so if it is crap, pls be gentle in informing me


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